Amare Aliud
by Very Sincerely Yours
Summary: I love you and goodbye. That's it, all that needed to be said. But Alaric was just gone, and Damon broke. He shattered. Stefan and Ric had to put him together again.


**Amare Aliud**

~.~

For Ric, may you never be forgotten.

~.~

_When I'm lost I'm better off than those I'd leave behind,_

_'Cause if they really love me then they'll realize it is time._

_And if you say we'll meet again it would surely make me cry,_

_'Cause what you should have said is I love you and goodbye..._

~.~

Damon wandered into the hospital, not paying attention to any-one. He knew what happened to Elena, but for some reason, couldn't bring himself to care. Because even though he always said that he loved Elena, something else was more important. Alaric was gone.

Was he just that horrible? Every friend he had ever had, anyone he had ever loved either left or died. He was broken and he kept breaking everyone else. But it wasn't his fault, was it? Deep down he knew that it was. He knew why no-one ever loved him. Even though he tried so hard to push people away he always slipped and let some-one come close. Then before he knew it, they were dead and he was the one left wanting to die.

It took a few minutes before he snapped back to the present. He had walked straight into his brother, who was now calling his name. It seemed muffled for some reason. And Stefan looked worried. He suspected that there was still blood on his face. That must have earnt him some looks.

Ric would've laughed.

And then the tears started forming behind his eyelids. It hadn't hit him until now. His legs gave out and he collapsed, barely feeling Stefan's arms as they caught him, enveloping his shaking form. Barely feeling anything except the pain in his chest. This was the worst kind of pain, when your heart seemed to be constricting and your insides had vanished. When you couldn't stop the tears from pouring, no matter how hard you tried.

"Damon… shhhh, you're okay."

No. Damon would never be okay again.

And then Stefan lifted him up. He should have been annoyed but he couldn't feel anything except Stefan's warmth so close to his cold, constricting heart. Warmth he craved, more so than anything else.

He heard Stefan talking with some-one. It sounded like Caroline. She seemed upset and he found himself struggling to remember why. Something told him that it was his fault.

Everything was.

And then Ric filled his mind again and the pain grew. It consumed him and he could no longer breathe. He remembered people talking of the war, decades ago. The soldiers that sacrificed their lives, made the ultimate sacrifice.

But there are so many things worse than death.

It wasn't long before the world started to go black and he remembered that there wasn't a sufficient amount of air getting into his lungs. Why did he need to breathe anyway? He guessed it was something to do with human anatomy, things that didn't change even in death. He had always thought that suffocation was one of the worst ways to die.

Good. Pain is good.

And in that moment it was. Because Damon had always been sure that there were only two ways to decrease the amount of pain he felt. The heart pain, the worst kind. You could either replace it with physical pain, which he had done on more than one occasion when he couldn't bare the feeling anymore, or if he felt loved, really and truly. Not that that had ever happened to him. It was a theory of his that he knew would never be supported, let alone tested. But the pain he was feeling now, he knew the kind. It had just never hurt this much, not by a long shot.

But did he really deserve to drown out his pain?

Before he could think about his answer or let the darkness claim him, strong hands were pressing on his chest, forcing him to breathe. This only made him cry harder. He was begging to die, but he didn't know if it was only in his mind. Something told him that words were pouring out of his mouth. He didn't know what he was saying. All he knew was that if he lived, more people would die and the pain would never go away.

When he finally forced himself to accept the persistent attempts keeping him alive, it didn't take him long to break out of his mind and become aware of his surroundings.

He immediately realized that he was being pressed against something comfortable and warm. And some-one was rocking him, like you would a child. He felt himself shaking violently and he thought that he must have been in shock.

Shock… Ric.

The darkness came swooping down on him again and again he couldn't breathe. He tried to this time but no air would come. His body shook harder, convulsively spasming and not stopping. He was already exhausted, already begging for death. He could hear his voice. It sounded strange in his ears, guttural cries and sounds of pain. It would not stop. Eternity seemed to pass, filled with the cries and the pain and moments when Damon could not move at all. In those moments it was only the tears that fell as his heart gave out over and over again, his body too tired to do anything but jerk reflexively in agony. And then he would hear the cries and know that he was thrashing. That was the scariest part. When he realized that his body wouldn't obey him. When he moved without wanting to.

And the darkness never took him. It loomed close, almost teasing, but never granted him reprieve. And then he realized that this is what he deserved. Unbearable agony, self-loathing, guilt beyond belief. Knowing that he had lost his best friend. Forever. That Ric was gone.

It wasn't long before he started to feel again, or at least feel one thing in particular. The rocking, that's what he could feel. Back and forward, over and over. It soothed him a little and soon he was able to hear things other than his own cries and the ringing in his ears. Stefan's voice broke into his thoughts, comforting and reassuring, murmuring nonsense that he couldn't be more grateful for. When he finally opened his eyes the first thing he saw was his brother.

"…S-Stef?"

Stefan smiled sadly. "Hey, you feeling okay?"

The tears welled up in Damon's eyes again and he fought them desperately. He couldn't get lost in that pain again. He nodded, and Stefan saw straight through him.

"How… long?" he croaked.

"A few hours. I didn't think you were going to wake up."

"Ric…" he whispered, almost gasping. His lungs were failing him and he clutched desperately at Stefan's shirt. "Ric…"

This time the darkness did consume him, wrapping around him tightly. Stefan's murmured words were the only things that he understood. He held on to them, trying to ride out the pain. When it finally started to fade, he opened his eyes again. He realized that Stefan's arms had never left him this entire time.

"Tired…" he whispered, unable to make any other word leave his lips. His eyes drooped and he found himself relaxing in Stefan's arms.

"Hey, hey. You can't sleep. Just, stay awake…" Stefan roused him slightly, not letting him close his eyes. He wanted to sleep, needed to. Needed to wake up and find that this was all a dream.

"Ric is… please… hurts…"

Stefan's eyes softened and Damon felt gentle fingers run through his hair. His eyes closed on their own accord and the last thing he was aware of was soft lips pressing against his forehead.

~.~

When Damon woke the world was buzzing. When he blinked his eyes open everything was too bright, the voices too loud. All he could do was let out a broken moan and shift his head. Immediately the light was gone and he relaxed in the darkness.

"Damon?"

It was Stefan's voice, it had to be. Using as much strength as he could find inside of him, which wasn't much at all, he forced his eyes to open and stay open as he looked up at his brother. Even that small task left him exhausted. He tried to speak but his throat was dry, unbearably so. His tongue felt like sandpaper and bile was making its way into his mouth. Black dots swam in his vision. What's happening to me?

And then he remembered.

Ric's gone.

When he saw Stefan's face become worried and guilty, as opposed to a twisted kind of relieved like it had been before, he knew that the tears had come again. His vision blurred and darkness surrounded him. Stefan was calling to him, but the words were muted and almost inaudible. Was this how he was going to die? In the midst of agony, eternally and unbearably alone?

But even when he tried to let go, when he finally lost all will to survive and let himself fall into the darkness, he found that he couldn't. Because although it was almost impossible to hear, he knew that Stefan was calling to him. That he promised his brother an eternity and he was not going to break that promise.

So he clawed his way back to the surface. It wasn't as hard and he thought and yet when he finally opened his eyes he was exhausted. He couldn't fathom why.

And Stefan was above him, looking down and smiling, although it was obviously forced. His eyes were large and sad and his fingers were overly gentle as he brushed dark hair out of Damon's eyes. Damon should've felt suspicious, or even a little apprehensive, but he found himself sinking down in Stefan's arms, his eyes closing and his entire body relaxing. He was just so damn comfortable, he didn't think he could've moved even if he wanted to. That, and he was willing to anything to keep his thoughts at bay.

"Damon?"

Stefan's voice broke through Damon mind and he opened his eyes again, looking up into his brother's worried ones. Stefan didn't seemed to be put completely at ease when he did, however, and continued to gently stroke Damon's cheek, lulling him to sleep.

And Damon was happy to oblige, he was more than happy, but he also knew that Stefan was hiding something and couldn't bring himself to simply curl up and forget about it again.

So he kept his eyes open, suddenly wondering how long I'd been since he actually woke up, and forced himself to speak.

Or at least, try to speak. It was more like choked gasps, broken up by coughing. Stefan interrupted him quickly, hearing the questioning tone to his... attempts at conversation.

"Jeremy came past..." Stefan spoke reluctantly, his words drifting away, and watched closely for Damon's reaction. Damon, who's mind was just a tad muddled, didn't realize the implications until about ten seconds after he should have. He immediately paled and his voice was small and scared when he spoke.

"Oh."

Stefan's arms tightened, offering Damon much needed comfort, and he continued slowly. His eyes never left his brother's face.

"He said that he saw him and... and that he told him what's happening to you. He wants to see you but, only if it's okay."

Damon didn't reply. He couldn't. Ric was gone and he couldn't let go, but to speak with him again, for Ric to see him like this... The dead weren't supposed to return, not for the right reasons. And yet anyone would do anything to see a lost loved one one more time. But Damon... he couldn't. He wanted to, so, _so_ badly but he just couldn't. Because this was his fault. He hated himself enough already, he didn't deserve this.

But part of him thought that he did. That he deserved to spend eternity in a place worse then hell. That his life was just one huge mistake and he'd only made it worse.

That no one loved him, and that no one ever would.

Not that he'd ever admit that though.

Because if Damon had learnt anything throughout his entire life, it's that a smile is the ultimate lier. That if someone joked about something, they were hurting. That if they were smiling and it looked real, then they were familiar with pain. Because those people, the ones who could smile while their hearts were ripped out of their chests, never opened up to anyone. They were like glass. The sacrificed strength for illusion, so they we're sharp and pointy and everything slid straight off, but they were also extremely fragile. The slightest touch and they would break, the slightest crack and they would shatter. They were also the best at pretending, at manipulating emotions and holding their own, so that you could see straight through their true souls and view the reflections, the _lies_, instead. It was a sacrifice that was used to survive.

Damon was guilty of all this. He knew and he wasn't ashamed. He had survived one hundred and sixty-eight years simply because he had appeared strong. He knew that it never got better, because what hurt those glass people the most was that no-one ever noticed now badly they were hurting. No-one ever cared.

And everything inside Damon screamed at him. Told him not to shatter, not under any circumstances. But something else told him that he'd already shattered, that the cracks had started long ago and that there was nothing left anymore.

And deep down, he knew that what he was really afraid of, was being put back together.

Damon was suddenly reminded of Humpty Dumpty. Would that make Ric and Stefan the king's men? And maybe Humpty didn't want to be put together, because eggs were a lot like glass too weren't they? But he knew that if Ric fixed him then he would be something completely different and he was afraid. So very, very afraid. Because he knew that his support was flimsy enough as it was. It could disintegrate all together.

If Damon was afraid of anything, it was living by himself. Having no one to turn to.

Being alone.

But Ric was still his friend, probably the only friend he'd had in a long time, and he wanted to talk to him, one last time. He needed to. He didn't blame Ric for leaving him, he blamed himself, because these things were always his fault.

Everything was.

So he nodded, simply because he wanted to apologize. Because he knew that he was fading and couldn't leave before making things right.

And Stefan's arms tightened around him again and a hand brushed through his dark hair. Damon let himself get lost in the feeling for as long as possible before drifting off into sleep.

~.~

Ric didn't know what to expect. He'd talked to Jeremy after his initial goodbye, only to hear about Damon's condition. I'd been two days and Damon was still with Stefan at the hospital, having had Meredith give him a room. His friend was distraught, that's all he knew for sure, and at first his entire mind was clouded with worry.

When he finally saw Damon, curled up in his brothers arms and caught in the grip of either a memory or a nightmare, his heart ached. Jeremy was going to follow him in, but he told him to stay. The teenager seemed confused, but nodded to Stefan and left.

Stefan knew that Ric was in the room, but was too busy trying to calm Damon down and couldn't do anything to acknowledge his presence. Damon was thrashing, crying out for Stefan, Ric, people neither of them had ever heard of. Stefan could only restrain him, stop him from hurting himself, and whisper soothing nonsense in is ear.

Ric was taken back. His friend, his annoying, narcissistic, egotistical, suicidal, murderous, best friend, was broken and it was his fault.

When Damon's cries finally died down, he approached the bed. He was sure that even if Stefan could see him, he wouldn't have. He was too busy leaning over his brother, shushing him softly and carding hands through his hair. Telling him that everything would be okay, even though nothing would be okay again.

Ric sat on the edge, slowly reaching up and touching Damon's temple with ghostlike fingers. Damon, who had quieted somewhat, whimpered softly and unexpectedly, as if he could feel Ric near him. Stefan's eyes immediately shot up, looking straight through Ric. He stayed still for a moment before nodding, recognizing his presence. Ric nodded in return, although his movement went unseen.

Damon whimpered softly again, curling in on himself and opening his ice blue eyes into tiny slits. His gaze searched the room until he finally gave up, not finding what he was looking for. Those eyes clouded with tears and Damon closed them again, a few stray drops escaping from under his eye lashes.

Stefan wiped them away.

Ric's own eyes clouded slightly and he rested his hand against Damon's cheek, only barely touching the flesh. He couldn't feel his friend and he knew Damon couldn't feel him either, but it was as close as they could get. He left the hand there and Damon opened his eyes again, again searching desperately.

"Ric..." He croaked, his eyes sliding closed yet again. His voice was small and fragile, yet still vaguely questioning. "Ric..."

"I'm here buddy."

Ric moved his fingers, stroking Damon cheek and watching as his friend relaxed slightly. He didn't know how that worked, but he was glad that it did, and Stefan seemed to feel the same way. He rocked his brother, shushing him gently, and told him to sleep. Damon clutched weakly at Stefan's arm, clinging desperately.

"Don't go," he whispered, "don't leave me..."

You could almost hear the sounds of two hearts breaking.

"Never," Stefan replied, placing a soft kiss to his brother's forehead.

Ric continued to stroke his friend's cheek and Stefan continued to murmur words of comfort and soon Damon had drifted into an uneasy sleep. They sat there in silence for a while before Stefan addressed the air.

"Ric... Damon needs you, please."

Ric nodded again before realizing that it was pointless. So, shaking his head at his own stupidity, he reached out a hand and squeezed Stefan's arm, watching as the younger vampire smiled softly. He noted the dark rings under Stefan's eyes. So he did care for Damon. It was about time.

Without even a slight hesitation, he let himself into Damon's mind.

~.~

_When Ric opened his eyes, he found himself in a wooded area. It was quiet, except for the occasional drip of water droplets from leaves onto the ground. It had just finished raining, it seemed, and the air smelt like bark and dew. The ground was soft under his feet and the sky was blocked out by dark leaves, although he could tell that it was the middle of the night. And it was cold, so very, very cold._

_Ric spend a moment patting himself down, feeling his body remain solid under his hands. He sighed in relief, the physical form serving to calm his senses and make him feel a little more normal after two weeks of coming back and forward from the other side._

_And then he started walking, because Damon had to be here somewhere. He didn't know to find him or what Damon would look like here, in his own mind, his own memories, given the circumstances but knew that he had to be somewhere. He imagined Damon open and vulnerable, human maybe, but honestly didn't know what to expect. The way his friend had acted earlier, it could be anything._

_The one thing he did know, was that he wasn't expecting what he saw._

_At first, he wasn't sure whether it really was Damon, because he saw a child, a little boy sitting on a fallen log with his head in his hands. Dark hair was drenched, sticking to a small head, and old-fashioned clothes soaked through. The boy was sobbing softly, vulnerably, quiet and desperate and painful to listen to._

_And deep down he knew it was Damon. Call it what you will; ghostly insight, strong bonded friendship, consequences of penetrating Damon mind. It didn't matter._

_That little boy was his best friend and he was crying._

_And so he walked straight up to the boy, without a moment's hesitation. He sat down, leaning against the log, and ignored how wet his trousers became when they came in contact with the damp grass. He looked up at the child, immediately seeing a clear resemblance between him and the Damon he knew, and waited to be noticed. It didn't take long. The quiet sobbing stopped and the small head tilted up a little. Two of the fingers spread apart and a single, bright blue eye gazed up at him. It was probably the most adorable thing he'd ever seen. It would have been, if not for the tears that filled those blue orbs. The silent tears that continued to poor._

_"H-hello," this child Damon said, not changing position, one eye visible between his small, chubby fingers. Okay, now that was adorable, the stutter and everything. Ric couldn't deny it any longer. Damon was just so cute._

_"Hi," he replied, watching as Damon slowly lowered his hands, his face still mostly hidden by dark, shaggy hair._

_"W-w-why are you h-here?" Damon asked, hiccuping somewhere in between. He moved his little arms, wrapping them around himself, and tried to control his shivering. Alaric moved without thinking, taking off his jacket and wrapping it around the boy. Damon froze immediately, his eyes going wide. Alaric only smiled at him and looked back out into the woods, watching Damon in his peripheral vision and seeing him relax and tighten the jacket around himself after only a few seconds._

_"I don't know, buddy," Ric sighed._

_"Are you lost?"_

_Damon sat forward a little, his eyes starting to shine in a way Ric was familiar with. He had slid both his arms into the large jacket sleeves, looking very much like a mouse in a bin bag. An adorable mouse in a bin bag._

_Ric smiled at him._

_"Maybe." He paused for a moment. "Are you?_

_Damon immediately saddened, his lower lip jutting out and tears welling up again. He nodded a little and looked down, hugging himself tightly._

_And then Ric realized that Damon was only a child. That when he left this dream, memory, the Damon who he thought was over a century and a half years old was only a baby, left out in the cold. He'd never grown up, never been strong, only pretended to, and he need to have someone here for him. He couldn't be alone anymore._

_And he wouldn't be alone again._

_"Well you can't be lost if I'm here with you. You have to be by yourself to be lost."_

_"Really?"_

_Alaric nodded._

_"I didn't know that. So that means you're not lost either?"_

_"I can't be, not if you're here."_

_"Huh... Well you're welcome then."_

_Alaric couldn't help but smile._

_"So are you bud, so are you..."_

_They stayed silent for moment before Alaric spoke again._

_"So, what were you doing out here in the first place?"_

_"Huh? Oh..." He stopped. "My... My mother she..." The boy swallowed harshly before suddenly choking on a sob. He desperately tried to fight the tears, he really did, but before he knew it he was crying again, cold and wet and so very, very sad. Ric wouldn't have any of it. He pulled Damon into his lap, holding the child close._

_"M-mother... s-she's g-g-gone," he sobbed into Ric's shirt, clinging to him tightly and Ric, who didn't mind in the slightest, held him as he cried, rocking him gently._

_"Hey, hey, hey... Come on buddy, I've gotcha, that's it. Now you listen here. You're never lost, okay. You hear me?" He tilted Damon's head up and looked into his tear-streaked face. "You're never lost, because you're never alone, I promise you that. But you're going to forget this, for a long, long time. But I'll still be with you, forever okay. Can you remember that?"_

_Damon nodded, confusion evident on his face._

_"What's your n-name?" he sniffed, his eyes- oh his eyes, so wide and so innocent. Ric looked straight into them, into his soul._

_"Ric."_

_And Damon smiled, the most adorable smile he'd ever seen._

_"Now go," Ric whispered, placing Damon on his own two feet. "You've got a little brother, yes? You've got to go to him, that way." Ric pointed to his left, not sure how he knew which direction to say but not asking questions. He watched as Damon smiled at him and ran towards the trees. The boy stopped for a second when he reached the tree line, turning and waving at Ric. Ric waved back and they both smiled, one last time before Damon slipped into the dark._

_It was only when a tear hit the ground that he realized he was crying._

~.~

When Damon woke, he thought he was alone. He thought no one loved him enough to stay, no one cared. He thought that he had been put together and that everyone had left him because they hated him, that he didn't deserve anything.

And then, as he stirred, he felt his brother's strong arms tighten around him.

And he remembered something he'd long forgotten, a memory of when he was a child, a stranger who'd told him something important.

That he was never lost.

That he was never alone.

And he knew someone loved him, that he didn't have to be like glass anymore.

Amare aliud...

...now he knew.

~.~

_Fin._

~.~


End file.
